


may god be with you.

by moonysiriusly



Series: Dark Rhink [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Cute Rhink Fluff, Link is a hitman, Link kills people, M/M, Murder, Serial Killers, hitman - Freeform, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonysiriusly/pseuds/moonysiriusly
Summary: Link Neal is a hit man. Though, he doesn't agree with the term hit man. He kills people for money. His long term boyfriend, Rhett, has some concerns about his profession and his worries increase when Link becomes hurt when he is dealing with a client.





	1. the job

“I’ll be home in 10 minutes. Okay. Bye.” His voice was gruff as he ended the call and slid his iPhone back into his jean pocket. He sighed as he mechanically picked up the mop near the door and began to work on the white tiled floor. White strands quickly became stained with dark red as he mopped the remnants of spilled blood and flesh from the floor. Most of the vessel had already been taken care of, the remains scattered all over the kitchen floor were just from the struggle his client had given him. Normally he would finish a good work day at around 6 pm and make it home in time before Rhett would come home from the office, so that he would not be bombarded with questions about how his day was by his over-enthusiastic lover. This time was different. He had arrived late to the meeting spot; Locke Avenue in a small remote bar. The lighting had been dim and the bar was almost empty, which wasn’t surprising for 11am in the morning. A man clad in black had approached him at the bar and slid a sealed envelope over to him. Link had nodded, not saying a word as he tipped back the whisky, allowing the golden liquid to run into his blood and confuse his brain. He could rarely do the job sober. He clambered back into his beaten black Porsche, pulling on a pair of sunglasses as he set his navigation to the address provided. The taste of alcohol still stained his lips and caused his stomach to turn in rejection to the early morning intoxication. Light jazz music played from the cars almost broken old stereo as he drove, constantly checking the clock on the dashboard. His job was demanding and draining. The dark bags under his sky-encompassing eyes only aged the man, who could do without the added years as he approached 40. 

As he got out of his car, he stopped and leant against it for a second, appreciating the view of the house he was standing in front of. It was big, the tenants earned a decent amount of money through what he could only guess was a form of drug dealing and money laundering. The garden at the front of the house was neat, decorated with soulless pink flamingos; half of the paint had been corroded from rain water, making them seem even more depressing. Link could never explain to anybody why he chose this line of work, because he couldn’t even explain to himself. Through few strange connections in his time on the drugs scene, he had been coaxed into working for a company who would hire him to do their dirty work. He wouldn’t call himself a hit man. He had no training to be a hit man, and he had no desire to pretend to be the next James Bond. Link simply did what he had to do to survive, the money he made was good and the constant battle of his job kept him alert and fit. His boyfriend, who he had met when they were both young and very into taking LSD at sketchy concerts, had settled for the quiet life. He owned his own party planning business. A 9-5 job in his own office in the city, Rhett was more than happy to sweep Link’s job under the rug and pretend that life was perfectly normal. Nobody really questioned Link’s profession, most people they would meet would assume that the business was a joint partnership and would not press Link about his role. 

The gun in Link’s back pocket felt like it was made out of lead. His knees felt like they would buckle under the weight at any moment, though he knew his knees were weak from nerves rather than strain. Link shook himself, staring at the house to see that there was not a single car in the garage; meaning that only his client would be home. “Come on, Neal. You’ve done this one hundred times before. You’ve got this.” He marched his way to the door, resting his face against the splintering wooden entrance door as he composed himself. Expertly, he reached around to his back pocket and pulled out the gun, keeping it tucked in his jacket as he efficiently picked open the lock. The benefits to him being as light and nimble as he was meant that most of the time, people would not even realize that he had infiltrated their place until it was too late. Floorboards screamed under his feet as he slowly made his way into the mansion, delicately closing the door behind him. He was never one to make a loud and dramatic entrance, dramatization got him nowhere in his line of work and just made everything so much more challenging. Holding his breath and leaning against the flaking white walls, he could hear the older man’s breathing in the room next to him. He knew that all he had to do was go in there and take one killing shot, he could leave and pretend this didn’t happen. 

His long black hair hung slightly in his face, a constant reminder that he needed to take up Rhett’s offer of a haircut once he had finished this job. He stepped right, centering himself in the middle of the doorway and bracing himself to pull open the door in one quick motion. Forcing bullets into the gun, he noticed that his gloved hands had began to shake slightly. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually killed somebody. Adrenaline pumped through his body, producing a high which was almost indescribable. Far better than any drug trip he had ever been on. The feeling of overwhelming power swept through the man as he kicked open the living room door in one easy blow.


	2. play nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> link's approach to dealing with his client doesn't seem to go as smooth as he was hoping.

A balding man, startled by the sudden presence of the black haired stranger, jumped from the white sofa in panic and began to run towards the door. Link leaned against the door frame, no longer anxious or panicking as he allowed the adrenaline to sweep over him. He was the one in charge here. He laughed slightly as he watched the helpless man dart into the kitchen, searching through the draws for a weapon which he would deem appropriate to defend himself with. Link grinned at the naivety. People always chose the most defective objects. Small, pointed kitchen knives which would penetrate barely an inch if the man was lucky to get close enough to Link to damage him. “Cute.” He smirked, closing the distance between himself and the older man and leaning over him. “Go on then.” He whispered, his voice almost sensual as he gave his victim a moment to strike. The man stared at him, tears running down his old and wrinkled skin as he stared at the dark figure in a mixture of fright and confusion. “Who are you?” The man choked out, backing himself further into the corner as Link leant forwards. 

“No. You don’t get to ask questions. Nice try though.” Link smirked, cocking his head to the side. He loved this. The final moments before the kill where his victims were always so helpless that they would beg and do anything to survive. The constant “I’ll do whatever you say.” always fed Link’s ever growing ego, though he would never give in to the screams and pleads. He was there to do a job, not make friends and save lives. Occasionally he had weak moments or clients who he would feel remorse about killing, but he had no choice when it came to his job. Focusing back on the man in front of him, he looked him up and down. From his attire, Link could tell that the man had a lot of money. His shirt, unbuttoned and lazily pulled on, were the same designer brand as the jeans he was wearing. Even the accessories, a noticeably expensive wedding ring and gold chains around his neck. Link knew that the man had enough money to try and blackmail him with it. 

“Please. I’ll pay you double.” Link grinned, placing his knee against the man’s leg and pressing him into the corner even more. “Money doesn’t do it for me.” He winked, pushing his luck with the complete stranger. He loved to make them feel helpless. Watching the black holes of their pupils dilate in fear and their breath speed up as he closed distance between them. “Now, we can do this the easy way….” Link’s breath hitched as the older man grabbed a handful of his long black hair in an attempt to escape. He growled in anger, pressing the man back and holding the knife to the exposed throat of his victim. 

“Or, you know. I like it hard.” He grinned, not waiting a second longer as he quickly ran the blade against the man’s throat. The knife was nowhere near sharp enough to cut the artery, but the deep blood running from the cut made the man scream out in agony. “Oh come on sweetheart, play nice.” He grinned, licking the excess blood from his hands under the man’s panicked gaze. His own heart was beating faster every second, he had missed the thrill of the chase. Link hoisted himself up onto the kitchen counter as he watched the man run around the kitchen in a stressed frenzy, dripping blood all over the floor but making no attempt to run and get help or call the police as he accepted his demise. Link held up the gun to his own face, polishing the black metal exterior with his jacket as he relished in the pained screams of the man for a few seconds more. He looked down at the man who was now sprawled out in desperation on the floor and pulled the trigger of the gun in one quick motion. 

Though he was a killer, he wouldn’t call himself a monster. He saw no need for slow and painful death, no matter what the person had done. He sighed as he assessed the mess, the kitchen cupboards and white walls were now covered in mulberry red blood. Cleaning was his least favorite part of the job, why did people have to bleed so much? He jumped down from the counter, running a hand through his sweaty midnight black hair and wincing slightly as he felt the strands fall from the earlier pull. “Fucking disrespectful.” He spat, kicking the mans limp body in anger at his own suffering. The sweet noise of his ringtone began to blare from his phone as he finished collecting every cleaning product he could find to help to get rid of the stains. Quickly slipping his phone out of his back pocket, he checked the caller ID to see that it was his lover calling him. 

“He can wait.” Link sighed to himself, picking up a bottle of bleach and pouring it over the tiles in the kitchen. This was going to take him a while to clean.


	3. deeper wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rhett's worries begin to unfold as he realises that link isn't as careful as he makes himself out to be.

“You’re home late.” Rhett’s voice greeted him as soon as he turned his key in the door. Link sighed, exhaustion clear in his tone as he threw himself onto their leather sofa and whined. “I’m fucking exhausted.” His voice was barely more than a whisper as he buried himself in the pile of pillows next to him. Pain and adrenaline still ran through his body. He jumped slightly as he felt a large, cool hand run down the side of his back in a soft motion. “I missed you.” The older man whispered into Link’s ear, softly pressing a kiss to his neck as he began to work his hands into Link’s back, earning a groan of pleasure from the exhausted man. “Missed you too.” Link breathed out as he felt the tension of his muscles begin to release as his boyfriend expertly massaged his muscled shoulders. 

“You’re bleeding.” Rhett’s voice was cold as he pulled back from the sofa, standing over Link now. Link sat up quickly, confused as to what was happening as he stared up at his boyfriend. “What?!” Link exclaimed, pulling off his black shirt in a panic to reveal the wound on his back. “Hold still.” Rhett refused to look towards Link as he made his way back to the kitchen, bringing a forest green first aid kit with him as he hurried to the boys side. “I swear, I had no idea I was even injured.” Link complained, trying to reassure Rhett that the injury hadn’t caused him any pain. Link knew that his boyfriend constantly worried about Link whilst he was working, and the rare occasions where Link would end up with bad injuries would ruin Rhett’s trust and cause the pair to argue over the damage Link was causing to himself. Rhett huffed, not speaking as he pulled out rubbing alcohol from the kit. Link hissed in pain as the liquid seeped into the cut, attacking the exposed flesh and causing him to writhe in discomfort. 

“Shower.” Link looked up from the floor to meet Rhett’s eyes. Rhett marched into the hallway, carrying the first aid kit with him, not bothering to linger in the doorway to wait for Link to follow. Link sighed. Good deal. His boyfriend was pissed at him and he was injured. “What did I do to deserve this?” He sighed to himself, picking up his discarded shirt and moving to follow Rhett to the shower. “Come.” Rhett called from the cubicle. They had spent a ridiculous amount of money on their bathroom, a luxury jet bath and a shower cubicle for them to both fit into seemed to be the biggest necessity they had in mind when they purchased their place. Not that money was a problem, between the two of them they had more money than anybody they knew. Link listened to Rhett’s hums of appreciation as the taller man waited in the shower, water cascading down the slope of the taller mans muscled back and into the drain. 

He quickly pulled off the rest of his clothes, carefully avoiding the wound in his back as he opened the sliding door and stared in awe at his lover. He often forgot how beautiful he found Rhett to be. His golden hair, when wet, turned a soft brown color and curled at the ends. Rhett’s skin was tanned and rich, muscled arms and thighs made him God-like. “Are you going to just stare at me, or are you going to join me?” Link could hear the playfulness in his partners voice and jumped at the chance to enter the shower, closing the door hastily as he felt Rhett’s eyes bore into him. Rhett pushed Link in front of him into the showers stream, holding his small waist and stroking up and down Link’s torso. Link shuddered slightly as the warm shower water made contact with the open wound, causing him slight discomfort for the first few seconds. The pain was easily forgotten as he focused on the movements of Rhett’s hands all over him. Massaging his back with one hand and playing with Link’s overgrown black hair with the other. 

Link smiled as he felt Rhett’s breath next to his ear. “You need a haircut.” His words were soft as he admired the raven haired boy, taking shampoo between his large hands and massaging it into Link’s scalp. “Just relax.” Link smiled to himself, steadying his body weight with one hand as his knees began to feel weak again. He could not of asked for a better and more understanding partner to take care of him. “I love you.” Link muttered, reaching behind him to stroke his boyfriends muscled chest in affection. “I love you.” Rhett responded gruffly, kissing Link’s neck softly as he continued to rinse out the soap for him. 

Rhett stepped from the shower first, turning off the flow of water and leaving Link shivering in the sudden coldness of the bathroom. “Jerk.” Link called out, earning a genuine laugh from Rhett as he entered the bathroom with clean towels and bandages. “Stay still, this is going to hurt.” Rhett spoke softly as he applied an antibacterial ointment to the gaping wound, earning a slight yelp from Link. “I know baby, I know. It’ll be fine though.” Rhett’s soft words relaxed Link as he leant into his partners reassuring touch, allowing the bandage to be wrapped around with almost no hassle. “Good.” Rhett was pleased with himself as he helped Link from the shower into a clean cotton white towel. The smell of laundry detergent engulfed Link and he breathed in the clean smell. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He reached up to Rhett, planting a kiss on the taller man’s lips as he made his way to their bedroom. Rhett made Link’s life worth living, despite the constant arguments about their arrangement and lack of time spend with each other, Link knew that he would rather die than lose his lover.


End file.
